


Try to Talk

by EtoileGarden



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Blowjobs, Communication, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sex Talk, but also not very explicit, purposefully obtuse idiot son is also a purposefully obtuse idiot boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-17 12:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16974306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoileGarden/pseuds/EtoileGarden
Summary: I dreamed about my fic 'Try Again' and it involved this particular scenario, so I wrote it down for y'all's reading pleasure.“--- but as your mother I very much need to make sure that you two are being safe.”“What?” Ronan asks, “Like, wearing our seatbelts?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Try Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15921016) by [EtoileGarden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoileGarden/pseuds/EtoileGarden). 



> Hey guys welcome to yet another unedited/late night/written in one sitting fic. pls leave your need for the right amount of commas at the door xxx

“Ronan,” Aurora says, in her ‘we’re about to have ‘Talk’ voice, as Ronan walks past the door to the lounge. “Come in here a moment?” 

 

Ronan pauses. He is, of course going to go in and submit himself to whatever this talk is, he just wants to check out his surroundings first to try and get some sort of an idea of what kind of talk this is going to be. He gets no clues whatsoever, so he just walks in and joins his mother on the couch. 

 

She had had her finger wedged in between the pages of the book she was reading (Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones), but now she fetched her bookmark from the arm of the couch and puts the book aside. Another sign that this was definitely going to be a ‘Talk’. 

 

“You don’t need to look so freaked,” Aurora says, pats the couch cushion between them in invitation for Ronan to shuffle closer, “I’m not about to tell you off for anything. Unless of course there’s something you are expecting to be told off about, if so, please do tell me.” 

 

“No,” Ronan says, shuffling closer, “I’m a beacon of manners and piety.” 

 

His mother snorts. 

 

“Now that’s a lie to take to confession,” she says, and he grins at her grin. 

 

“So?” He prompts. 

 

“So,” she says, “first of all, I’d just like to point out that you’re not fooling anyone when you tell me you’re going to Gansey’s, and that you’re staying the night in town. I know you think you’re being smooth by not technically lying seeing as you’re not saying where in town you’re staying, but it’s not quite as smooth as you think.”

 

“Um,” Ronan says, because she wasn’t telling him off, but he was very clearly in the wrong right now. He fidgeted. 

 

“I’m not saying this because I’m about to tell you that you can’t have sleepovers at Adam’s, I’m saying this so you can just tell me outright when you will be at Adam’s. I’m not about to stop you. You’re both eighteen. You’re both semi sensible. I’d just appreciate a bit more truth about it all.” 

 

“Oh,” Ronan says, “um. Sorry.” 

 

“It’s fine,” she says, reaches out to pat his knee. She’s rolling her eyes, “I’m sure Gansey will be pleased he won’t be required to lie if asked about your whereabouts now.” 

 

“I never asked him to lie,” Ronan mumbles to his knee and his mother’s hand, “I just told him what I was doing and hoped he’d decide to lie.” 

 

“Mhm,” Aurora says, “either way.” 

 

“So,” Ronan tries, “I’m not in trouble, or anything then?” This had definitely so far been a ‘talk’, but not a ‘Talk’. Perhaps he’d misread the signals. 

 

“You’re not in trouble or anything,” his mother says, squeezes his knee and leans back against the arm of the couch to squint at him. “There is something else I wanted to talk about with you, though.” 

 

“Ok?” 

 

“Now I know I just said you and Adam are semi sensible,” she says, “and I do believe that, but as your mother I very much need to make sure that you two are being safe.” 

 

“What?” Ronan asks, “Like, wearing our seatbelts?” 

 

“Ronan,” his mother says, “you better be wearing your seatbelts. You know I’m talking about wearing condoms. And doing your research. You might not have to worry about accidental pregnancy, but there are plenty of other things to worry about.” 

 

Ronan feels like he ought to have just taken a large gulp of water or something because he feels, deeply, that these words coming from his mother requires a spit-take. He chokes on his spit instead, and his mother keeps talking. 

 

“I don’t want to know any details of what you two are doing,” she continues, “but I do want to know that you’re being careful with what you’re doing, especially if you’re up to any penetration, because, that requires a lot of preparation and a lot of lube. Let me tell you, working in nursing really let me in on the grand world of anal injuries and I’d really prefer not to -” 

 

“Mum,” Ronan cut in hoarsely, “ma. Stop. Stop. We’re not. We don’t. God.” 

 

She stops talking, raises her eyebrows at him in a particularly disbelieving way.

 

“We’re not having - we’re not doing anything like that,” Ronan stumbles, “please don’t say penetration again.” 

 

She still doesn’t really look like she believes him. 

 

“I’m not going to be angry at you for having sex,” she tells him, “I just want to make sure you’re having safe and informed sex.” 

 

Ronan had had the sex talk when he was eleven, from his father. This was just as excruciating as that had been. Possibly more. It was more relevant now that he was actually with someone and had come to terms with being very extremely gay. 

 

“Ok,” he grits out, “ok, but. Mum. I’m not lying. I’m not. We’re not having… sex. We’re just. We’re not. I’m - ugh.” 

 

“Oh,” Aurora says. They sit in silence for a few extremely uncomfortable moments, and then she speaks again. “I guess I shouldn’t have presumed, huh? Still. Never a bad time to make sure you feel equipped with knowledge of safe sex.” 

 

“God,” Ronan groans. 

 

“I’m sure the internet is a very useful resource,” she continues, “and also a very poor resource if you’re looking in the wrong places. I’ll email you some good articles about it.” 

 

“What,” Ronan says, “about gay sex?” 

 

“Yup,” Aurora replies, “now. I meant what I said about not wanting to know any details, but if you do need to talk about it, or have questions you can’t seem to get answers to, you can ask me.” 

 

“I’m not having sex,” Ronan repeats. 

 

“I get that,” Aurora says, “I’m just talking about the future now.”

 

“Can I go now?” Ronan asks. 

 

His mother waves a hand in both dismissal and benediction. She reaches for her book, and he escapes as quickly as fucking possible. 

 

-

 

“Oh, hey,” Adam says, about eight past midnight when he finally gets the hell back home from his late shirt at Boyd’s. “Why’re you on the floor?” 

 

Ronan had a key to Adam’s, but sometimes he still kind of liked to just wait outside for Adam to let him in. Also he didn’t want to fall asleep before Adam got back. 

 

“Comfier than standing up,” Ronan says, accepts Adam’s offered hand and lets Adam lever him back onto his feet. “You smell.” 

 

“Charming,” Adam says, releasing Ronan’s hand and fumbling with his key to open the door to his flat, “so good to see you too.” 

 

“I didn’t say it was bad,” Ronan grumbles, leaning heavily against Adam’s back as Adam swings the door open, “I was just commenting.” 

 

“Sure,” Adam says, walking into his tiny flat and dragging Ronan inside behind him like a cloak. “What’s up?” 

 

“Nothing’s up,” Ronan says, unpeels himself from Adam’s back so Adam could shrug his jacket off and kick his work boots off without having to work around Ronan. “You don’t have work tomorrow morning. I thought I’d get in and get extra Parrish time. Get it, though? Parrish time? Because I’m with you, but I’m also at my church - parish, get it?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, God, Lynch,” Adam groans, stretching and knocking his hands and then his wrists against the low ceiling, “you’re hilarious. I know. I’m going to get a shower and go to bed.” 

 

“Ok,” Ronan says. 

 

Adam steps in towards him, kisses him, then turns around and goes into the bathroom. Ronan follows him in once he hears Adam get into the shower, because there’s not enough room for two bodies in that bathroom unless one is in the shower. 

 

“So,” he says, leaning against the sink (he  _ would _ sit on the sink counter but he and Adam were pretty convinced it’d collapse if he did), “funny thing happened today. Or yesterday now, I guess.” 

 

“Uh-huh?” Adam asks from behind his shower curtain. 

 

Ronan kicked at Adam’s discarded shirt on the floor. “Yeah,” he says. 

 

Adam grunts, then sticks his head around the curtain to look at Ronan. There’s shampoo in his hair, sticking it up in sudsy clumps. “What?” he asks, “Is this a funny haha thing or is this a funny, actually vaguely traumatising thing?” 

 

“Uh,” Ronan says, “I wouldn’t say it was traumatising exactly.” 

 

Adam sighs, tugs his head back around the curtain. There’s the sound of vicious scrubbing for a moment, and then the shower turns off, and Adam’s head reappears, free of shampoo. 

 

“What?” he asks. 

 

“It’s really not a big deal,” Ronan defends, though he knows he’s treating it like one, “just. Well first, mum like. Let me know she  _ knows _ I’m sleeping over here like every time I’m in town.” Adam frowns but doesn’t say anything, so Ronan continues. “And then she like. Started in on giving me a sex talk. Like. And asking if we were being safe, and shit like that.” 

 

“Oh God,” Adam says. 

 

“Adam,” Ronan groans, gratified by Adam’s horror, “she said, ‘penetration’.” 

 

Adam laughed, groaned, laughed again. “Shit,” he says, “what’d you say?” 

 

“The truth,” Ronan says, scrubs his hands over his face because it’s feeling stupidly flushed, “that we’re not having sex.” 

 

“Yeah,” Adam says, “ok. Cool. Not too traumatising then.” 

 

“No,” Ronan agrees. “Not too much.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam says. He disappears back behind the curtain and turns the shower on again. 

 

“I’m gonna get into bed,” Ronan says. Adam says something vaguely distorted by the noise of the shower. 

 

-

 

“You kinda freaked me out back there,  y’know,” Adam says about fifteen minutes later. He’s lying on his back in bed, Ronan draped up along his side. “I thought you were gonna say something like. Serious.” 

 

“It is serious,” Ronan protests, his protest coming out a little muffled seeing as his face was buried half in Adam’s shoulder, half in Adam’s pillow. 

 

“Yeah, ok,” Adam says, “but like. Not  _ serious _ serious.” 

 

“You’d be singing a completely different tune if she’d tried to have that conversation with you,” Ronan grumbles. 

 

Adam laughs. “You’re right,” he says, then, “she was cool about like. You being here, then? And also about us maybe having sex?” 

 

Ronan unburies his face, props himself up on his elbow to look at Adam. “Yeah,” he says. Waits. 

 

“Ok,” Adam says.

 

Ronan continues to wait. 

 

“I mean,” Adam says, eyes shut, “is that something you wanna like, do? Or like. Talk about?” 

 

“With my ma?” Ronan asks, “No.” 

 

“Ass,” Adam replies, “you know what I meant.” He opened his eyes. “Do you wanna talk about us?” 

 

“What’s there even to say?” Ronan asks, “We’re cool.” 

 

“You’re a lot less cool when you pretend you have no idea what I’m talking about,” Adam retorts, “listen, babe. If you don’t wanna talk about it right now, that’s fine. Just say so.” 

 

“I mean,” Ronan babbles, “I think about it a lot, y’know? Like, how could I not? You’re super hot and like. Yeah. I just mean. It’s kinda a big step, isn’t it?” 

 

“Ronan,” Adam says, frees his hand from his sheets to reach up and cup Ronan’s face, “chill out. God.” 

 

“I am chill,” Ronan replies. 

 

“Like I said,” Adam says, “we don’t even gotta talk about this right now if you don’t want, ok? It’s fine.” 

 

“I do want,” Ronan says, because, really, words aren’t working great for him right now. 

 

“Ok,” Adam says, “so, then, you wanna take a couple of breaths and then maybe just. Start again?” 

 

“Sure,” Ronan says. Breathes a bit. 

 

He rolls over and off of Adam to lie on his back next to him. The bed wasn’t really big enough for them to lie shoulder to shoulder but he did it anyway, arm squished up against the wall. 

 

“Right,” Ronan says once he feels like he’s got a few more words under his belt, “I guess… talking to my ma got me thinking a bit. About like. About how we haven’t even talked about it, I guess. I mean. We like. You know you’d made me like cum in my pants way too many times. Does that count as sex already?” 

 

“Uh,” Adam says. He rolls over as well, onto his side so as to face Ronan, “do you feel like it does?” 

 

“I dunno,” Ronan says, “like. What the fuck is sex, even? Does it have to involve like. Uh. Ugh. Penetration? Or like, is it just - God - just touching each other’s dicks? Or is it just like. Making one of both of you cum? Because if that’s it, then it is, but like - I don’t know.” 

 

“Neither do I,” Adam says, “I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

 

“There’s gotta be a line somewhere,” Ronan argues, “otherwise we could say that kissing is sex as well.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam concedes, “everything is on a scale, yeah? So let’s try and decide where we agree sex lands on the scale. Let’s put making out firmly on the not sex side, yeah?” 

 

“Ok,” Ronan says, “what about grinding?” 

 

“What do you think?” 

 

“Um,” Ronan says, “not sex.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam says, what about grinding that ends with you cumming in your pants?” 

 

“Sometimes it’s you,” Ronan retorts, then, “I think… not sex. It’s not intentional.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam says, “so, we could say the line is when we are intentionally seeking… orgasm?” 

 

“This is such a fucking weird conversation,” Ronan says. 

 

“Tell me about it,” Adam snorts. 

 

“Ok,” Ronan says. “So. If that’s what sex is. Uh. You wanna have that with me?” 

 

“Obviously,” Adam says. 

 

“It wasn’t obvious to me,” Ronan replies hotly, and Adam rolls again, this time to roll onto Ronan, stomach to stomach. 

 

“I wanna have sex with you,” Adam says quietly, “whatever sex is to you, I want to have it with you.” 

 

“God,” Ronan says, can feel blood rushing to his cheeks and also other parts of his body, “you’re so cheesy.” 

 

“You’re the one who rhymed my name with ‘God damn’ in a love song you wrote for me,” Adam throws back at him. 

 

“Touche,” Ronan says, “I didn’t mean we should have any kind of sex like. Right now. Just. You know. Clarifying.” 

 

“I know,” Adam says, “I’ve been at work all day, I’m not actually up to doing anything more energetic than just lying on you right now.” 

 

“Right,” Ronan says. 

 

“I could do tomorrow morning, though,” Adam says, “if you feel like it.” 

 

“Right,” Ronan says, “um. Do you have condoms?” 

 

“Nope,” Adam says, “but the corner store down the block does. Plus we could just start with handjobs.” 

 

“Huh,” Ronan says, “have you thought about this much?” 

 

“Don’t be a dick,” Adam says, “a lot. I’ve though about this a lot.” 

 

“Ok,” Ronan says, “cool.” 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (here's a second 'sex' chapter)

“This is a lot of articles,” Adam mumbles. 

 

It’s eight past eight in the morning, and Adam is clutching Ronan’s phone close to his face to squint at the email Ronan had just received from his mother. He passes the phone back to Ronan, eyes already closing. 

 

“Think she wants us to read all of them before doing anything?” Adam asks. 

 

Ronan thumbs into the first article, and then quickly thumbs back out because the banner was immediately confronting and not what he wanted to see first thing. 

 

“Um,” he says, “I dunno. I mean. No. I think she’s just being… helpful. But I mean like. I think I. I think we know what to do anyway. Right? The basics?” 

 

“Uh-huh,” Adam says, eyes still shut, face shoved into his pillow, “put mouth on dick, don’t choke when you cum immediately.” 

 

“Fuck off,” Ronan sputters, poking Adam in the ribs, “you dick.” 

 

Adam snorts out laughter, but doesn’t open his eyes even as he wriggles away from Ronan’s poking. “I’m pretty confident I know what I’m doing. In theory,” Adam says then, tugs the blanket up a little bit further over his shoulders. “I’ve done my research.” 

 

“What,” Ronan says, works hard to keep his tone even, “like, physical research or like, reading about shit online research?” 

 

“Ronan,” Adam sighs, opens his eyes now and hooks his fingers around Ronan’s inner elbow, “you  _ know _ you’re the first guy I’ve been with. You know my dating history. You know I’ve only ever been with my own dick. You know I’m talking about the internet.” 

 

Ronan huffs, tugs the blanket even further up so he can duck his head down underneath it. Adam joins him. The air underneath with them immediately goes stuffy and humid. 

 

“I know,” Ronan says, “you’re just like. Weirdly confident about all this.” 

 

“Weirdly confident?” Adam snorts, then sighs again. “Babe,” he says, “dude. Just because I implied we could do it this morning doesn’t mean we gotta.” 

 

“I want to,” Ronan says, “it’s just. Like. Unfair that you’re gonna be all. Chill about this. And I’m gonna be like. Sweating like crazy.” 

 

“I’m gonna be sweating like crazy too,” Adam says, “I’m definitely not gonna be chill about this. We’re both very uncool about this, ok?”

 

“You’re more uncool,” Ronan says, and Adam snorts again, yanks the blanket down to their waists. 

 

“That’s a change of tune,” he says, “I’m hungry as fuck. Toast?” 

 

-

 

“Are you sure though?” Ronan asks, just over an hour later, “What if I’ve got like. Some virgin std?” 

 

“Pretty sure that’s not a thing,” Adam says. He’s lying on his stomach on his bed, scrolling through one of the articles from Aurora on Ronan’s phone. “So far, what I’m getting from these articles, and from like, my own knowledge or whatever, condoms for oral are like - to minimise mess and risk of infection. But like, I don’t care about mess, and I know that I’m clean, and you know you’re clean, so.” 

 

“Virgin std,” Ronan reminds him. 

 

Adam nods, passes Ronan’s phone over to him, “virgin std,” he agrees, “ok. So. Wanna go buy some condoms then? And I think you should ask your mum about the likelihood of you having a ‘virgin std’ because. Again. Pretty sure that’s not a thing.” 

 

“I don’t wanna buy condoms,” Ronan protests, “people might see me.” 

 

“What?” Adam snorts, pushing himself up on his elbows and staring at Ronan, “Seriously? The great and mighty, I take no shit Ronan is scared of people seeing him buy condoms?” 

 

“My  _ priest _ lives near here,” Ronan hisses, perfectly well aware that he was blushing. 

 

Adam laughs outright, pushes himself properly upright, and then tips himself into Ronan’s lap. “Ok,” he says, “I’ll buy condoms then.” 

 

“I thought you decided we didn’t need them?” Ronan says, possibly just to be a little shit. He hadn’t decided properly yet. 

 

“Dumbass,” Adam says, “I don’t think we do need them. But it’s good to be on the safe side, yeah? Especially for a first time. Especially if you’re nervous. Plus, I saw they had flavoured ones and I wanna try them out.” 

 

“What,” Ronan says, “you’ve been checking the condoms out?” 

 

“I  _ saw  _ them,” Adam repeats, “chill, baby.” 

 

-

 

“Ok, but,” Ronan says, another half hour later, “are you sure?” 

 

“Ronan,” Adam says from between his knees, “yeah. I’m sure I wanna give you a blowjob. Are you sure you wanna get one?” 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan snorts, possibly too loudly. “I am.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam says, not sounding convinced. He didn’t move down any further, stayed perched between Ronan’s thighs, arms around Ronan’s waist, “sure? Seriously sure?” 

 

“Seriously sure,” Ronan grumbles, “I put the condom on, didn’t I?” 

 

“Took you three tries,” Adam points out with a grin, and Ronan rolls his eyes. 

 

“It’s slippery,” he defends himself, then, “could we just makeout a bit more first?” 

 

“Yeah,” Adam says immediately, pushes up from the floor to climb onto the bed with Ronan, his knees on either side of Ronan’s hips, pressing him down against the mattress, “abso-fucking-lutely.” 

 

It wasn’t that Ronan didn’t want to get his dick sucked, because, honestly, fuck yes he wanted to get his dick sucked. Very specifically, he wanted Adam to suck his dick. It was more that he was pretty sure he was gonna say something excessively embarrassing during it. Like. Asking Adam to marry him. Or have kids with him. Or something else like that, that he thought was very probably to jump out of his mouth under the influence of pre-determined orgasms. 

 

This particular worry was quite difficult to concentrate on, however, with Adam on top of him, kissing him gently, hands on his hips, fingers pressing hard into his skin. Adam always kisses him like this. Like. He holds Ronan tightly because he knows Ronan likes to be held tightly, and he kisses Ronan gently - to begin with - because he likes Ronan to be the one to push it harder. Ronan always pushes harder because when he does, Adam bites at his lips, and holds him tighter, and presses his hips up against Ronan’s until Ronan has to tip his head back to breathe. 

 

When Ronan tips his head back, Adam kisses down his neck, bites at his clavicle, sucks at his pec until Ronan hisses. 

 

“Ok?” Adam asks, mouth barely an inch from Ronan’s nipple, “Was that a ‘stop’ hiss, or just a hiss?” 

 

“Just a hiss,” Ronan grumbles, pushing his fingers into the tangle of Adam’s bed head curls, “keep doing that.” 

 

“Pushy,” Adam sniggers, but presses his mouth back down against Ronan’s skin, and resumes. 

 

Usually when he does this sort of thing, he takes it down as far as Ronan’s waistband and never further, even with Ronan’s hips jerking up and his lungs bursting. Today, there was no waistband. Just a dick in a stupidly bright green condom, and Adam doesn’t stop so much as pause with his tongue at Ronan’s navel. 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan grunts, “It’s green. That means go.” 

 

“God,” Adam says, “awful.” 

 

“You were the one who brought back green condoms because you wanted the lime flavour,” Ronan protests, “I’m in the right to make bad jokes.”

 

“Tell me if the light starts to go orange,” Adam says then, which is one half continuation of bad joke, one half very serious request. He doesn’t move further down until Ronan nods. 

 

At the nod, Adam rearranges himself. He had slid down Ronan’s body, back onto the floor, but now he knelt rather than just crouching, and pushes Ronan’s thighs further apart. Ronan pushes himself up on his elbows so he can see exactly what was about to go on.  They need to never ever ever buy green condoms again, because it was very distracting. 

 

“Oh,” Adam sputters, bare milliseconds after he’d gripped Ronan’s cock around the base and put his mouth to it, “oh, wow, that is super limey.” 

 

“God,” Ronan groaned, “seriously?” 

 

“Bearable, though,” Adam reassured him with a grin, put his mouth properly around the head of Ronan’s cock. 

 

“Oh shit,” Ronan says, because he had read somewhere (or many somewheres) that condoms severely reduced pleasure during sex or whatever, but, if that was true, he was actually going to die if they didn’t use condoms. 

 

“Mflm?” Adam says from around Ronan’s cock, but didn’t pull off. 

 

He was obviously having a little trouble putting anymore of it in his mouth, but, that really wasn’t an issue. He was jerking the shaft of Ronan’s cock with his hand, and Ronan already felt like maybe he was about to fulfil Adam’s prediction of him cumming within thirty seconds. 

 

“Shitting fuck,” Ronan confirms, drops his torso fully backwards so he could just focus on not entirely exploding, and reaches down to grip Adam’s shoulder, digs his fingers into Adam’s muscles. 

 

Adam pulls off his tip, then tips his head sideways and runs his mouth down it like he’s licking a dripping popsicle, and Ronan thinks he is very definitely dripping right now. 

 

“I’m gonna kiss you when I’m done down here,” Adam says, very close to Ronan’s balls, “because you are actually going to love this lime flavour.” 

 

“God,” Ronan gets out, then, “fuck,” he adds, because Adam wasn’t sticking to just talking to his balls, “are you seriously - fuck.” 

 

He’s not sure which it is that finishes it exactly. Whether it’s just the time allotted to him, whether it’s Adam’s mouth tightening back over the tip of Ronan’s cock, whether it was Adam dragging his nails against Ronan’s inner thigh. Whatever it was, or, whether it was a culmination, or whatever the fuck, that was it. 

 

Adam stayed between his legs while he came, kissing at Ronan’s thighs, which he thought was unbearably unfair because it just made it all that more intense. He rolled the condom off of Ronan’s dick, tied it, stood, deposited it in the bin, and then crossed back to Ronan and dropped himself down on top of him. 

 

The lime flavour was actually pretty nice. If a bit plasticy. 

 

“My mouth hurts a bit,” Adam says once they’ve finished that particular bout of kissing, “but I think it just needs practice.” 

 

“Smooth,” Ronan says weakly, “I’m very happy to help out, though.” 

 

“Oh,” Adam says, “just as smooth.” 

 

“You know it,” Ronan snorts, “want me to do you now?” 

 

“Man,” Adam says, “I know you just want the condom. That super sweet lime.” 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan says, “you got me.” 

 

“Go on, then,” Adam says. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! If you like my writing feel free to come yell at me on my Tumblr etoilegarden.tumblr.com


End file.
